Grilling the Subject

Grilling the Subject Read Online Free PDF Page B

Book: Grilling the Subject Read Online Free PDF
Author: Daryl Wood Gerber
blushed.
    â€œBoys can be a handful,” Rhett said.
    â€œTell me about it.” Emily chuckled. “I have four brothers.”
    â€œMove, Ronald!” a woman shouted.
    Out of nowhere, Ronald Gump stumbled toward Emily. The eagle-headed cane he was carrying flipped forward, but he kept his grip. When had he started using that? Shane steadied Ronald and Emily at the same time. Poor Ronald appeared startled. His usually styled salt-and-pepper hair was sticking out in every direction. He pushed his glasses higher on his narrow nose.
    Shane stared daggers at Ronald’s wife, Sylvia, who was in her midfifties and so thin she reminded me of a fancy candy stick dipped in white icing, her white hair slick to the sides of her head, her mouth swathed with silver lipstick to match her sleek silver clothes and scads of jewelry. Silver was always the color of the day for Sylvia. Even the cell phone in her hand was encased in sparkling silver.
    â€œWhat’s your problem?” she said to Shane.
    â€œWhat’s going on?” he demanded.
    â€œThe line was moving.” Sylvia entered some urgent message into her phone, or at least it seemed urgent. She was stabbing the buttons. “Ronald wasn’t paying attention, like always.”
    â€œWell,
we
weren’t moving,” Shane said.
    â€œSorry,” Ronald mumbled.
    â€œI’m not,” Sylvia countered.
    Emily tugged Shane’s arm and said, “Let’s go home.”
    â€œNo, we’re staying.”
    â€œHow very like you, Shane,” Sylvia said, her voice dripping with sarcasm. “You never let the lady choose.”
    Shane jutted his chin. “What’s that supposed to mean?”
    Uh-oh. I got the distinct feeling there was a history between Shane and Sylvia. Had he had a liaison with Sylvia on one of his jaunts to town for the extravaganza? She was older than he was, but that didn’t mean anything. Was it before he started up with Emily or, um, after?
    Emily frowned at Sylvia like she was imagining the same thing I was. “Shane.” She pulled on his arm again. “Please.”
    Shane didn’t budge.
    â€œSylvia, dear”—Ronald nudged his glasses up his nose again—“you’re on edge. I get that. It’s terribly difficult when the world doesn’t go your way, but don’t lash out at innocent bystanders.”
    â€œInnocent?” Sylvia spun on her heel. “It’s all because of you.” She lasered me with a wicked stare.
    â€œMe?” I squeaked.
    â€œYour father and that Ava Judge. They’re trying to throw me off my game.”
    â€œWhat game?” Rhett whispered.
    â€œProperty rights.”
    â€œI’ve hired a lawyer.” Sylvia flourished her cell phone. Her lawyer’s name gleamed across the top. I knew him. He was a real shark.
    â€œDear, don’t,” Ronald mumbled.
    â€œDon’t what? Don’t tell it like it is? The legal route is the only route.”
    Ronald leaned on his cane and struggled to pull a twenty-dollar bill out of his wallet. It fluttered into the air. He groped for it, missed, and teetered forward. I reached for him. So did Rhett. Surprisingly, so did Sylvia. Ronald grasped her hand, but his cane skittered and lost its hold on the walkway, and he pitched forward with Sylvia in tow.
    â€œHoly mother of—” Sylvia landed on her rump. She glowered at her husband and, grunting, clambered to herfeet. She brushed off her clothes. “See what you’ve done, you doddering fool?”
    He crawled on his knees and gathered the twenty-dollar bill, then used his cane as a prop to support himself as he rose.
    â€œDon’t,” Sylvia continued to rant. “I repeat,
don’t
try to manage me, Ronald. Those two are banding against me. The entire neighborhood is. Including him.” She seared Shane with a glance.
    â€œI don’t own the house yet,” Shane argued.
    â€œMinor
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